 Drawing 12·13·2017, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Whatever you see in this drawing I see a reverse triangle that instigates great compositional vigor. I have noted before that Picasso utilized a tried and true center triangle in his masterpiece Guernica. Picasso's triangle is so forced as give the viewer boredom after multiple viewings. This highest clarity of composition does allow Picasso to invent incredibly rich, novel, and greatly emotive forms. It allowed Picasso to perform with intuitive abandon on a rigidly organized frontal compositional assault. Marvelous it is that Picasso absorbs the viewer in the active emotional strife of his characters. These hurt and screaming figures reside comfortably within a securely balanced image. Security versus chaos is Picasso greatest theme. Giving the viewer security, so they may feel comfort while they view chaos, is the reason I am deeply influenced by Picasso's best paintings, drawings, and prints. Returning to my drawing of yesterday: What I have called a "reverse triangle" can be found with one of its points cut at the bottom of my drawing. It moves the viewer up and around the two major forms on the right. Those forms, juxtaposed as they are by spherical versus cubic centers, each play with dissimilarity against the other. This occurs comfortably because they reside nicely in a secure, upside-down triangle. To be absolutely correct, there is no triangle there! My "reverse triangle" has its bottom point cut to flatness. Mathematicians call this shape a trapezoid.  Pablo Picasso, "Guernica", oil on canvas, 1937   Who's there? Not who you think! These are abstract images, yes, but they are also non-representational. The visualization is emotionally referenced, but not unkind or aggressive, just exploratory. That said, the spatial play, insisted upon in these drawings, is robust. One can follow the floor via shadows and marks. The outgrowth of forms above the plane is scary. The unease within these drawings is, to me, like hovering over a chasm while walking on a rope bridge. I am surprised by my personal discomfort. Is this a good thing? I don't know. When a viewer engages with Picasso's Guernica, or one of the more emotive self-portraits by Van Gogh or Rembrandt, is feeling safe important? Revelatory they are. Representational works are more direct than the drawings I show you today. Representation in Guernica, or in a self-portrait, is obvious. Do not take the images represented in my drawings as obvious!
 "2017 No.3" (state 4), oil on canvas, 27.5x50 inches The disjunction between the left and the right of the painting "2017 No.3" horrifies me. Is that good? Is that the right emotion? Intuitively I think it will beget a better response if I place a spot of red on the left side. I do use Ivory Black, which is a warm black. That helps, but it begs for more warmth. Tried and true color theory says the color wheel implores completion. The primary color missing in this painting is red. Adding red is a comfortable solution. Adding a spot of red would reduce this painting's discomfort, but is it the right thing to do? Yesterday's drawings also utilize separate panels within one image. I have always been interested in multiple panels, multiple images, for several reasons. Disparate images request intellectual and emotional unification. Viewers do this spontaneously. The human mind questions without reservation. This absolute need to put together the most disparate of ideas intensely engages the viewer. It is NOT a new idea. Several artists of my generation have done this, none more repeatedly than David Salle [below are reproductions of two of Salle's works, one early in his career (1983), and one from 2016]. Notice, in Salle's paintings the color wheel is comfortably completed, making more comfortable the disparate images.    David Salle, "B.A.M.F.V.", 1983, oil on canvas with satin and cement object, 101x145 inches  David Salle, "Hot People", 2016, oil, acrylic, charcoal, and archival digital print on linen, 60x80 inches.  Drawing 01·07·2017, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches The beginning of this year's first painting looks like the detail of a larger painting. It is definitely far from completion. It surprises me with its coldness. It is cold here, below zero Fahrenheit today. This said, yesterday's drawing has warmth. Is that a tropical plant? So despite the freezing weather, and the cold in me, there is hope. I am warming to myself in this New Year. I think this year portends success. Yesterday I set the studio temperature to remain warmer overnight, warmer than usual. I won't have to wait till late afternoon for it to be comfortable in there. My hands were cold most of yesterday. Optimism survives!  "2017 No.1" (state 1), oil on canvas, 39x56 inches  "2016 No.20" (state 3), oil on canvas, 56x57 inches Work is work. You show up. You do. The mystery is my reaction to all things present and past. Intuition is built on study, contemplation, activity; yes, intuition is a product of work. I find myself in the throws of intuition. It feels discomfiting. Is it befuddlement? Or just me in new territory? I have to trust because all I consciously know is the path feels right within my questions: "Yes?" or "Maybe yes?" It is alright to be here.  Drawing 12·13·2016, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches    The world is a messy place. Yesterday's drawing are fantastical! For this they felt very soothing in the making. The middle one has the security of being upright and center-balanced. Who could ask for more? Who could ask for an easier solution to the pain of vulnerability? The two on the wings are not so simple. In each case I sought stability, but the way of finding it differs greatly. No.1 rocks back and forth, the left object leaning left, the two right objects leaning right. No.3 creates its space in a more complex manner, as shadows do not pay attention to a point source, but are invented in order to give the composition animation and interest. Of the three drawings, only No.3 has forms clearly reminiscent of our real world, as a cloud-like form hovers in the upper left and a two-eyed being is framed by a rectangle just right of center. Even the form, on which the vigilant creature resides, looks a bit like a stranded fish. Nice day. Sunny, perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cold: Goldilocks!
  What's it all about? I am certainly NOT stuck in a rut! I am driving along, turning a corner. The turn feels slow, lethargic. It does feel familiar. I am winding up, the tension in my rubber band of a soul is increasingly stretched. I feel taut, stressed, anxious, ready to jump. The coming recoil may not be pretty. My current work does not look pretty. Everything looks unappealingly unattractive. Yet, I am filled with optimism.
Yesterday's drawings are, in a simplistic way, exploratory. What can I do with that which I know? Is this craziness? I am more interested in the unknown than the known? Thus I explore, looking to push out of my comfort and into the revelatory uncomfortable. It would be healthier for me to revel in the simplicity of being, here and now. Would it not be better to be happy with the pleasures available to me? Am I a hero if I risk looking for the dark and dank? Or just a crazy idiot? Time and effort will tell.   Yep, I am still dealing with a failed car: Sucking life energy from me it is. Yesterday I did get some time in the studio. You probably do not relish reading about my preoccupation with distraction, my complaints, so I will stop now. Please, look at the drawings. Forget me.
 "2016 No.15" (state 5), oil on canvas, 69x52" The work shown today was done two days ago. I have been distracted by the failure of an automobile. Yes, I am without a car in New Hampshire. The everyday life of things can remove one from the everyday life of the self. This thing that has failed literally drives me. It must be taken care of. This "taking care" removes me from the here and now. To decisively go forward I am required to take time, planning, money, and thought. The work shown today is good. Both the drawing and the painting are exploring the centering of a form. These compositions have been built around a central form. My wife, she said to me, "I could have seen a circle there." Not me. My world demands a three-dimensional form, not a two-dimensional circle.  Drawing 08·24·2016, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  "2016 No.4" (Painting-03·15·2016 state 8), oil on canvas, 57X50 inches Despite my complaining about process, my discomfort, I am feeling better all the time. The work is stronger. The work is more clearly mine. I am more centered within the work. So, why do I feel discomfort? Why do I feel restless? Here's why: So much to do, not enough time, not enough energy. The flip side is... my success rate is higher than ever! Painting "2016 No.4" is very good!   |
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February 2019
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